Whoops
by UndiscoveredSpecies
Summary: Flowey brings up a disturbing truth about Frisk.
1. Chapter 1

"Psst."

Sans didn't move, remaining prone on the couch with his arm draped over his eyes.

" _Psst!_ Hey!" The words came in a dramatic stage-whisper, and a prickle of irritation skittered along the back of his head. " _Hey_! Smiley Trashbag!"

Sans remained perfectly still. "You might want to think of a more productive use of your time, Flowey—like thinking of nicknames that aren't _garbage._ " He raised his head and winked, but it was only his creeping dislike of the flower that kept a genuine smile off his face.

Flowey didn't seem bothered by the pun. He bounced softly up and down, an almost-convincing look of concern spreading over his face. "You know, I've been thinking…"

"A dangerous pastime."

Still, he didn't respond to Sans's jab. That got his attention; normally Flowey's face would shift dramatically into a teeth-bared grimace, but he kept that same lying expression—a false concern, a dangerous worry. "I've been thinking," he repeated, leaning closer. "About Frisk."

Sans pulled his arm off his face and turned his head to look at Flowey, doing his best to look bored. It would not do to let him see the sliver of anxiety and worry that crawled through his bones like a spreading disease. He remembered all too well Flowey's promise to kill Frisk again and again…and again…and again…and again, as many times as he wanted, until he got bored. He _hated_ that flower.

"Frisk's a funny kid, don't you think?" Flowey began to tilt himself from side to side, making his golden petals twirl gently around his face. "I mean, for all intents and purposes, they _look_ human…"

"What are you talking about?" Sans sat up, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket so Flowey wouldn't see them curling into fists.

"Look!" Flowey turned toward the window and for a brief, delightful moment, Sans imagined punching him—but as always, the thought of his damage cap stayed his hand. Instead, he followed his gaze and looked outside.

Undyne and Papyrus were sparring in the backyard, her glowing spear clashing against the long bone that his brother held clutched in one hand. They threw themselves together and tussled violently before breaking apart, circling like predatory cats before lunging again. She sent shining arrows shooting at Papyrus from all angles—Sans watched as he sent most of them spinning away into oblivion, but more than a few struck him. Undyne immediately stopped her attack and put a hand on his shoulder, a look of concern flickering through her yellow eye. Papyrus straightened up and nodded—he was okay.

"Frisk isn't even outside," Sans snapped at Flowey, trying and failing to keep his anxiety muffled. He hated watching Papyrus sparring with Undyne; he felt ridiculously useless every time he saw his brother take a hit, unable to help and unable to protect him.

"No, but this illustrates my point," Flowey said quietly, watching as Undyne set up a new attack. "She's strong, isn't she?"

"She wouldn't be Captain of the Royal Guard if she wasn't," Sans replied, wondering what the hell Flowey was getting at.

"Your brother's strong too," Flowey continued. "Even an idiot can see that when they're fighting—of course, your brother wouldn't hurt a fly, but my point stands."

"If you woke me up to make observations," Sans started, but Flowey turned to look at him with a fanged smile that stopped him in his tracks.

"Kind of makes you wonder how Frisk got away from Undyne," he murmured, his eyes twinkling malevolently. "Yes, they ran, but Undyne's green magic works kinda like your blue magic. Controls the SOUL, you know."

"I know," Sans answered curtly. He didn't like where this conversation was going. He didn't like it at all.

"So Frisk would have _had_ to fight," Flowey went on, not taking his eyes from Sans's face.

Sans did his best to keep his expression neutral, but it was growing harder with every word.

"Either Frisk is _incredibly_ adept at dodging—like you—or Undyne decided to go easy on them. Unlikely, given how bloodthirsty I've heard she was. Or…"

"Why don't you stop talking in circles and tell me what you're playing at," Sans growled, all trace of humor gone from his voice.

"Or there's a third option," Flowey said quietly, still watching Sans with that terrible smile. " _You_ know about it, and _I_ know about it, and maybe…just maybe…our small human friend knows about it too."

"Resets," Sans whispered.

Flowey's smile grew, reaching unnatural proportions. "Yes. Exactly. It explains a lot, doesn't it? Living through meeting Undyne, getting through the entire Underground without ever fighting back. Certainly would be handy if they had all the time in the world to study you, to anticipate your next move with unerring accuracy, to survive because they had died over and over and over again."

Sans didn't reply. He felt cold and sick with the realization that Flowey was right.

"You've seen it for yourself. Their lack of EXP and Love." Flowey began to bounce softly again. "Humans are sturdy, yes, but children are not."

"And exactly why did you bring this up?" Sans asked through clenched teeth, fighting the urge to attack.

Flowey smiled innocently. "I know how you feel about resets, Sans, and I _especially_ know how you feel about those who cause them. Maybe you should ask Frisk just how far they'd gotten before they decided to do it all over again." And before Sans could say anything in response, Flowey disappeared into the ground and was gone. 

* * *

**Author's Note:** This story isn't sticking rigidly to canon, but I found myself thinking about Sans's dialogue in the genocide fight ("our reports show a massive anomaly in the timespace continuum. Timelines jumping left and right, stopping and starting..." , "knowing that one day, without any warning, it's all going to be reset" , and "even if we do, we'll just end up right back here without any memory of it, right?"  
Point is, I imagined a scenario, thought about it too hard and ended up hurting my own feelings, ha ha. So I decided that all of you get to suffer with me.


	2. Chapter 2

Frisk lay on their bed, feet kicking slowly at the air as they turned a page in the new dinosaur book Toriel had gotten for them. One hand scratched gently at the seams of their patchwork quilt.

"Frisk," Sans called from the bottom of the stairs.

Frisk put two fingers in their mouth and gave a sharp whistle to let him know that they had heard.

"Frisk, let's…let's go for a walk," Sans called.

Frisk frowned, sitting up. Sans had never suggested anything like that before—either Toriel was chasing him out of the house for some reason or another or something was wrong. They whistled again, hopping off their bed and grabbing their favorite blue and pink sweater, pulling it on as they clumped down the stairs.

Sans was waiting for them. He stood in silence as they pulled their shoes on before opening the door and walking away without a word.

Frisk's frown deepened. They ran to catch up and tapped him on the shoulder. **Sans? What's wrong?**

"Let's go to the woods," Sans said, avoiding their curious eyes. "The leaves are beautiful this time of year."

The autumn wind tugged at Frisk's dark hair, but there was something sinister about the chill it carried. **Sans?**

"This way," Sans said, still ignoring them. "I know a shortcut."

Stomach rolling with anxiety, Frisk followed him around the side of the house and, blinking, found themself in the middle of the vibrant autumn woods. Leaves spiraled lazily down toward the ground. _Shff…shff…shff…_ Frisk smiled despite their growing anxiety; they always loved the crunch and crackle of dried leaves underfoot.

Sans walked just ahead of them, his hands in the pockets of his favorite blue hoodie. He didn't look back at Frisk once, made no effort to speak to them even though he had been the one to make the invitation.

 **Did Toriel want us out of the house?** Frisk asked, jogging to his side so he could see them signing. **I wasn't being loud, and Undyne and Papyrus aren't home.**

Sans didn't reply.

Frisk couldn't take it anymore. They stopped in a grove of brilliant red, orange, and yellow trees and grabbed Sans's sleeve, spinning him around and already signing. **Sans, you're acting really weird! What…** They trailed off, hands lapsing into stillness as they saw Sans's eyes.

They were completely black.

… **Sans?**

"You know, kid, I've heard some interesting things," Sans said, leaning back against a tree, holding his weight on one leg. "Some very, _very_ interesting things. And the more I've thought about them, the more truth there seems to be."

Frisk watched him, their heart beginning to thump harder.

Sans closed his eyes and let his head rest against the tree's trunk. "Someone made a good point," he said quietly. "The Underground is a dangerous place. Lots of enemies, lots of people willing to fight."

 **You don't have to fight,** Frisk signed. **You can always pick mercy.**

"You can," Sans said, watching them through shadowed sockets. "Of course, it would be much, much easier if you already knew what was going to happen."

Frisk's mouth went dry, their heart beginning to pound painfully hard against their ribs. **Sans...I…**

"There were certainly a number of people who would be more than happy to kill a human, and _especially_ a stray child," Sans said. His voice was lower, hinging on a snarl. "So I have just one question for you, Frisk." He took a step closer. " _How many times did you reset?_ "

Frisk felt the blood drain from their face and they retreated a pace. Their hands were cold as ice but still as the tree trunks towering around them; they had no thought to lie. They stared at Sans, mouth dry as desert dunes, and tried to think of what to sign. **Who told you?**

"Does it matter?"

After a moment, Frisk shook their head slowly. If Sans knew, he knew.

"How many times, Frisk?" Sans kept watching them, his hands in his pockets. His posture was relaxed but there was an unmistakable aura of danger that rolled off him.

Frisk was silent, hands clenched in trembling fists.

Sans took another step closer. "Do you even _remember_? Do you even _remember_ how many times you let us get to the surface, let all of the Underground feel the sunlight on their faces, only to waltz back down the timeline and do it all over again?" His voice was still quiet; Frisk had never heard their friend yell, but somehow the false calm was even worse. They could see the anger boiling just below the surface, a volcano on the verge of eruption.

Pinprick tears stabbed at the backs of Frisk's eyes, shame welling up and threatening to choke them. **I didn't…I didn't think anyone else knew about the timelines except Flowey…**

"And is that all the justification you need?" Sans's black eyes seemed to expand, the blackness within threatening to swallow Frisk. "You thought you were one of the only ones, so you thought it was okay to rob every last one of us of a bright future? Again, and again, and _again_? _Why,_ Frisk? Because you thought your little adventure was fun? Because you wanted to _play the game again_?"

Frisk fell back another step, tears now coursing down their face and dripping off their chin.

"See," Sans said, his voice softening, "I figured we've been reset before. The nature of timelines and how easily they fluctuate makes it kinda hard to get hopeful about things, you know?" He shrugged, a humorless smile ghosting across his face. "Maybe it's just an excuse for bein' lazy, but does it matter?" His hands shifted within his hoodie pockets. "But not everyone knows about resets, like you said. Undyne don't know. Neither does Alphys. Or Asgore, or Toriel. Or Papyrus." The hardness was back in his voice, harsher and colder than before. "You let them all get to the surface, you let them see the sky and feel the sun, and then you _took it away._ " One of his eyelights returned, but it was cyan, blazing and burning blue. He withdrew one hand from his hoodie pocket and it was clenched into a fist.

 **Sans…**

"Tell me why you did it."

 **Because Flowey wouldn't come! I could save everybody else but I couldn't save him and he wouldn't come to the surface and I didn't think anyone knew about the resets and I wanted to save** _ **everyone**_ **but I couldn't save Flowey too!** The tears were pouring down Frisk's cheeks, pattering onto the dried leaves.

Sans's eye began to flash from cyan to yellow and back again, flickering like a strobe light. He extended his fist and gigantic, draconic skulls appeared at his sides. They opened their fanged mouths and a white light began to shine from within, growing steadily brighter.

Shaking from head to toe, shoulders hitching with silent sobs, Frisk knelt on the cold forest floor. **I'll take your judgement,** they signed softly, **and this time I won't reset.** Frisk dropped their hands to their sides and curled their fingers into the hem of their pink and blue sweater. They bowed their head and closed their eyes. They could see the light growing brighter and they braced themselves for the pain and the inevitability of death.

It didn't come.

The light faded. Frisk waited. The still of the forest was absolute, and after an excruciating minute they dared to crack one eye open.

Sans was gone.

Rain began to patter down from the overcast sky, cold and stinging and real, mingling with the tears still making rivers down Frisk's cheeks. They never thought that mercy could feel so awful.


End file.
